Rest My Soul
by MrsSpaceCowboy
Summary: On opposite corners of Third Street and Beale, two lonely people fight to stay that way. Her scars are on the surface, soft on her skin and in her eyes. His run bone-deep, seeped in bourbon and blues. EPOV.
1. Chapter 1 On Beale Street

**I'm only going to do the long disclaimer once. Here it is. **

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**In other words, S Meyer still owns Twilight. The rest of this is mine. **

**See you at the bottom. **

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"Fresh meat," Jasper says, nodding across the street at the tables in front of Rum Boogie Café.

It's St. Patrick's Day, and most of the bars on Beale are staffing for Memphis in May and the busy summer tourist season that will follow. There are a few new faces here at Silky's, and it makes sense, since the crowds are growing as the chill fades into sunny, warmer days.

"Give me the shirt." I ignore him, because hot girls are a dime a dozen in downtown Memphis. They come and go, tease and flirt for tips or free drinks, and fawn over ink, but most can't carry conversations to save their own lives.

"This one is your type, man." I'm not sure if he's talking about the new green Silky O'Sullivan's t-shirt or the new girl across the street.

"I don't have a type, but this is definitely better than the polyester shit you ordered last year."

"I meant the girl, Edward. She's fucking perfect."

"No chick is per-" The word dies on my lips, because I finally see what he means. _Who_ he means.

She's short but stacked; muscular calves, a tight ass, and curvy little hips. The white sweater she's wearing hugs her tits and exposes a forearm covered in yellow, red, and various shades of black.

Her face is hidden behind long, black hair, but I manage a glimpse of a lip ring when she turns, peeling the cardigan away, revealing more of the delicious art on her body. It's irrational, but part of me wants to make her put the sweater back on. The green dress she's wearing is a fitted halter from the waist up and a short, green, net skirt. This leprechaun ballerina is making it abundantly clear that she's not to be pinched.

Ink curls from the top of her right shoulder all the way down to her wrist. It's the most beautiful sleeve I've ever seen. I can't make out the details from here, but I'm almost certain there are flames on the large tattoo on her other forearm.

If I did have a type, this woman would be it.

She glances over at us, smiles, and waves at Jasper before turning her eyes on me. Her nose wrinkles, and she grimaces. As beautiful as her shoulder is, it feels cold when she turns her back to us and disappears inside Rum Boogie.

I stub my cigarette and pull the green tee over my head.

"Jesus, Edward."

"What?"

Jasper sighs. "Nevermind. Lunch hour starts in ten, and then we have the parade at four. They're predicting record crowds this year." Big crowds mean big money, but they can also mean trouble.

"What? You think I can't handle it?"

"When was the last time you went home?"

_Not this again. _

"A few days," I shrug. "I've been sleeping at the station."

"You look like shit."

"Yeah, well, I'm off for the next 72, so I'll go home tonight and crash." The place is like a tomb, but it's better than listening to the probie snore and wake up all night at the firehouse. It usually takes new guys a while to acclimate to sleeping in a strange bed with others in the same room. "Is McCarty covering tomorrow?"

"Nah. Felix is covering. You want Monday, or you want me to offer it to Emmett?"

"He's on at the station Monday. I'll take it." He nods before turning to walk away.

The regulars start their trek from the office buildings downtown not long after he leaves me to go back inside and rally the troops. It seems like every law firm around has a Saturday staff, but today they're dressed casually in varying shades of denim and green. Looks like they're sticking around for the parade and festivities that follow. Tattoo Girl comes back outside with a notepad to greet her first customers after they've been seated.

She smiles and charms, keeping her clientele laughing and sated. More than once, jackasses in college garb try to touch her or corner her to talk. She shakes her head firmly, dismissing whatever offers or requests they're making.

There's a boyfriend. There must be.

Of course there is. She's walking art.

After the lunch rush, Tattoo Girl works with Benny, moving the wrought iron tables and chairs around the corner to the Third Street-side of the building. The parade crowd floods in at a quarter of three.

The balloon man is making the rounds, twisting and bending swords and flower hats for tips. Parents shell out to keep their kids happy during the wait. The line over at Wet Willie's Bar is wrapped around the building.

It's going to be a wild night.

The bands and floats come through. Beer gets spilled, and green beaded necklaces fly through the air and into the crowd. Around dusk, the families start to dwindle, and the blues spill out into the street from every bar on the block.

Tattoo Girl steps out of Rum Boogie shortly after eight, stopping still on the corner long enough to close her eyes and take a deep breath. A lazy half smile graces her lips, slow like her steps as she makes her way down Beale to Willie's.

She disappears into the sea of other would-be leprechauns. It's a good thing, because business is steady, and the mandatory curfew for the eighteen and under crowd kicks in at nine. I don't need any distractions.

Sam shows up to cover until close. I give up the stool and push through the crowd in the courtyard, making my way past our lucky Irish diving goats, Fintan and Kevin. Tanya meets me at the end of the bar with a Rajun Cajun Chicken Sandwich, a basket of fries, and a stein of green, frothy beer.

"How are things on the outside?" she asks, tossing a white towel over her shoulder.

"Loud."

She laughs and leaves me to eat, worrying more about the paying, tipping customers than my sorry ass. My corner isn't so private tonight, considering Silky's _is _the only real Irish pub downtown. Everyone wants to kiss and touch the certified Blarney Stone from Ireland, and a few of the more inebriated ladies want to kiss and touch the ribbons of black on my forearm. The giggles and blinking are annoying. So are the questions, like _Did it hurt? What does this mean?_ and_ Who's your artist?_ One would think they've never seen sleeves before.

Some hottie named Irina attaches herself to my side when I'm three beers in. Each chug of number four makes her laugh less annoying and her tits a little perkier. She's tipsy but not wasted, and her hand on my thigh is good sign that the tomb won't be as cold tonight as it normally is.

She's asking my last name when Tattoo Girl walks through the gate and onto the patio. She's with a group, two other girls and Jake from Willie's. They follow her over to Jasper, and when she taps him on the shoulder, he turns, immediately snaking his arms around her waist and leaning in to catch whatever secrets she's whispering in his ear.

_That fucker. _

My type. Obviously, she's his type, too.

He keeps his hand on her waist, guiding her to a table a few feet away from the stage; best seats in the house.

The ladies sit and reach for menus, but Jake follows Jasper through the maze of tables and customers until they reach the open spots at my end of the bar.

"Give me a minute," I say to Irina, letting the pads of my fingers tickle the skin at the edge of her skirt.

She giggles and nods, returning to her friends' conversation and leaving me to have a round with the guys.

"I figured you'd come over when you saw Tanya line them up," Jasper says, nudging bourbon in front of me.

"Where've you been, man?" Jake asks. "You've missed poker two weeks in a row."

"Working. I picked up a couple of extra shifts at the station, and this fucker keeps me busy. No time for play."

They both glance at Irina.

"Yeah. No time for play," Jake laughs.

"What about you? Who are the girls?"

Jasper glances at their table. "The blonde is Rosalie. She's new at Coyote Ugly."

"The green wig is my girlfriend, Leah," Jake says, giving her a nod when she glances over and smiles.

"And the leprechaun ballerina?" The only one I'm interested in is Tattoo Girl.

"That's Bella." Jake stands, ready to get back to his girl. "Send over a couple of 'Divers,' Jasper."

"Sure thing, man."

They're looking to party. The "Diver" is a concoction of every beer and liquor behind bar mixed together in a yellow, one-gallon bucket.

_Bella _stands and leaves the table before they're delivered, making her way across the patio and through the crowd to the gate on Beale. She looks to the left, leaning forward to check the crowd.

She's waiting for someone.

Irina's friends convince her to hit the dance floor when the band starts playing. Jake and his girlfriend follow soon after. Bella stays at the gate until another girl with short, spiky black hair shows up. They lean in close, whispering to each other. Bella points to the bar, and her friend leads the way.

Neither of them makes eye contact when they pass me, but the soft sleeve of Bella's white sweater brushes my forearm for a fraction of a second as she takes the barstool next to mine.

Her friend steps between Jasper's legs and kisses him on the mouth.

I've known Jasper since college, and that was the last time I saw him kiss a girl on the mouth. He's not much on PDA.

"I'm glad you made it," he says. When he finally looks around, he remembers where we are and that they're not alone.

She turns in his arms to face me and Bella. "I'm Alice."

"Edward."

She shakes my hand. "Cullen?"

I nod, and Bella laughs beside me. "Figures."

"I'm sorry. Have we met before?" She looks stunned for a moment when I turn on my stool to face her. "You seem to have some sort of… problem with me."

"Don't flatter yourself." She rolls her eyes and her hips, turning in her seat to face to stage.

"Okay. Let's try this again." I hold out my hand as a peace offering. "I'm Edward Cullen."

After making me wait 27 seconds, she finally slides her palm against mine for a quick handshake. "Isabella Swan."

Isabella.

_Wait. _"Swan?"

She stands. "Yes. I'm his daughter."

"Where are you going?" I catch her wrist to try to keep her from walking away.

"I like this song. I want to dance." She looks down at my fingers, and I loosen my grip. "You can come with me if you want to continue this conversation."

"I don't dance." I want to punch myself in the face the minute the words leave my mouth. While true, they're also habit and second nature. I moonlight as a bouncer at one of the most popular clubs on Beale. Women are always asking me to dance.

She smiles and nods to her left. "No big deal. Looks like your lap-warmer is back." Irina is a few feet away when Bella waves goodbye. "See you around, Edward."

I watch her walk away, ignoring the heat of Irina's body against mine until soft lips tickle my ear. "I'm ready to go home. Are you coming?"

Some college kid follows Bella onto the dance floor. He spins her and pulls her close, making her laugh and relax against him.

It's been weeks since I've held a warm body. The one next to me will have to do. For now.

"Let's go."

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**A/N- Hi, pretties. If you're new to my stories, welcome. If you're a returning reader, I've missed you guys! My goal with this story is shorter chapters which will hopefully mean more frequent updates. **

**Thanks to my sis and Nic for pre-reading and to Iris for agreeing to beta.**

**Lovely, sweet evilnat made a gorgeous banner for this story. If you'd like to see it, there is a link on my profile. Yes, that's Beale Street. **

**Yes, there really are goats in the courtyard at Silky's. I have pictures of them, too. **

**It's Pearl Jam week on Fallon this week. Their new album, Lightning Bolt, came out last Tuesday. A few weeks ago, they released a song called "Sirens". I've lost count of how many times I've listened to it. I wrote bits and pieces of this story a long time ago, but the song brought it to life in my head, and now… Well, I'm two chapters in (with a character list that's going to end up giving me a headache). The last time I listened to Pearl Jam and wrote a story, it made people cry. That's the only warning I'm going to give. Lol.**

**If I still owe you a review reply for Down Home, don't give up on me. That story is on the poll for September completed fics over at TwiFanfictionRecs if you'd like to vote for it. **

**If you're the kind soul that nominated Down Home and The Give Away Girl for the TwiFic Fandom Awards, thank you. It's an honor to be included with so many of my favorite stories. **

**Thanks for reading! See you soon. **

**MSC**

**xoxo**


	2. April Showers

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight parts. **

**Thanks to Iris for cleaning this up and to M and Nic for pre-reading. Any mistakes left are mine.**

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Tattoo girl/Bella/Isabella/Whatever the hell her name is has been handed the golden schedule. From what I've gathered, she only works three nights a week; the three busiest nights of the week. Sure, Thursday nights are slow now, but the Peabody rooftop parties start in a couple of weeks and run through August. Then, the free summer concert series starts on Friday nights in Handy Park. We've seen crowds of 1,200 plus in July. And Saturday is _tourist _night, regardless of the time of year. The visitors who come in for weekend trips love to hit Beale on Saturday night.

Thanks to Jasper, I know that Bella and her friends are in their third year at the Southern College of Optometry. He met Alice there last month during his yearly eye exam. Over coffee afterwards, she mentioned tending bar at the Applebee's near Overton Square and that business stalled when construction to revamp the area started. He, of course, suggested a lucrative job on Beale.

Alice tends bar here at Silky's now on the nights that Randall is off. It's not like Jasper to date a co-worker, but in truth, it's not like him to date at all. No one here has a problem with it, because he doesn't treat her like he's fucking her when she's on the clock. Tanya was the biggest possible roadblock. She's one of the best drink slingers in Memphis and picky about whom she will and won't work with. Alice had to pass a grueling test of Tanya's design. Once she did, no one questioned whether or not she deserved the job.

My schedule here revolves around the one I have at the fire station, but I've still managed to catch Isabella and her beautiful arms on shift from time to time. She at least tries to control her grimace when she sees me now, and she's even waved once or twice.

Tonight, I'm a paying customer on Beale, which is unusual for me. McCarty turns 25 today, and a bunch of us are celebrating. He chooses Rum Boogie for the blues band covering Stevie Ray Vaughan and the new "smokin'" waitress working the tables on the sidewalk.

Isabella.

Benny is at the door, and I ask for a table out front since it's Emmett's birthday. We wait at the bar until one opens, starting slow with longnecks.

Isabella ignores me completely when she shows us to our table with her trusty order pad at the ready. "I heard you guys are celebrating a birthday tonight." She grins, resting her free hand on her hip. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"That's me, sweetheart," Emmett says, standing and puffing his chest like an idiot.

"I'm Bella, and your next drink is on me," she says, giving him a wink and earning whistles and table thumps from the guys. "Happy birthday."

Bella.

Here, she's Bella. Her name tag says so. Jake and Jasper call her Bella, too.

We start with two orders of barbeque nachos with extra jalapenos and pulled pork. When she comes back for our dinner orders, she saves me for last. "Okay, Cullen. What are you having?"

I'm lost in the swirl of blue waves crashing against orange and red flames on her arm. The black lace tank she's wearing tonight teases blue and green on the pale skin covering her ribs.

"Dinner. Next Monday."

"Okay… What do you want to eat tonight?" She leans forward, pausing longer than necessary between each word and clearly missing my intent.

"Salad and gator gumbo."

"Cool. I'll be back with another round in a few."

"Wait." I stand and follow her away from our table and around the corner. "I was trying to ask you to have dinner with me Monday. I'm off at the station, and Sam is covering for Jasper…"

"I didn't hear any _asking. _And while I appreciate it, I'm going to have to say no."

"Would you at least look at me?"

She stops walking and turns to face me. "It's nothing personal, Edward. I don't date." She shrugs, offering me a small smile and pulling her lip ring with her teeth.

"Is this one of those things where you don't date cops or firefighters because of your father?"

"Ah, no." Her eyes narrow. "I don't date at all. It has nothing to do with Charlie. I'm not giving you a line, although I'm pretty sure I wouldn't go out with _you _even if I was the dating type. Which I'm not." Her cheeks are red and both fists are balled, and this feels like a crash and burn. "You don't dance. I don't date. What's the big deal?"

I'm not the groveling type. I asked. She said no. End of story. "I'm going to need a bourbon shot with my beer when it comes out and scratch the salad."

She exhales and nods, turning back to the door. "Coming right up."

On the way back to the table, I try not to think about hints of colored flesh… tiny glimpses of something secret, something sacred.

She's fun and flirty with everyone else but noticeably cool when she puts a steaming cup of gumbo and a double shot in front of me. Emmett gets special attention, because he's the star of the party, young and free.

Everything I should have been at 25.

It's easy to see that now, seven years and one signed set of papers later. But I have someone that made missing out more than worth it. Instead of hitting up the rest of Beale after dinner with the others, I promise to catch up with them in a few and sneak over to Handy Park to dial her number.

After the third ring, I glance at my watch. It's nine in Seattle.

"_It's Makenna . You know what to do." _

"What kind of message is that, Mack? I know it's Friday, and you're probably busy… Just call me sometime this weekend if you have a chance." Talking to her voicemail always makes me feel like a tool. Tonight is no exception. "I miss you. Love you."

A few fat drops of rain pelt against the sidewalk, slowly at first, but the crowd on the cobblestones flees for the cover and warmth of the bars and the blues.

The guys are at Coyote Ugly by the time I catch up with them. There was a Redbirds baseball game earlier tonight, and all of the servers are decked out in team gear. Bella's buddy is working, dancing her way through the crowd with McCarty on her heels. He makes the mistake of tugging the blonde ponytail pulled through the back of her baseball cap. She turns and straightens her pointer finger, wagging it within inches of Emmett's nose and lecturing him.

He apologizes, holding both hands up in surrender.

It doesn't do any good. She turns and leaves him standing in the middle of the crowded floor.

"Come on," I say, slapping his shoulder and steering him over to the bar. "This one's on me."

Our number dwindles as we blow through a bottle of Buffalo Trace. Garrett's wife calls him and tells him to come home. One of their sons is throwing up. Stephan's girlfriend shows up, and Tyler wanders away with a newly single divorcée. He has a thing for older women, but none of them take him seriously enough to return his calls once the deed is done.

The party ends when Emmett leaves with Tia, the younger sister of the Redbird's catcher, and her best friend. They live in rural Missouri, so they like to party hard when they're in town. He doesn't hesitate when they invite us back to their suite at The Peabody to celebrate his birthday in a more private setting. I thank them for the offer but decline, using the excuse that it's been almost 24 hours since I've slept.

"Your friend needs to learn a thing or two about boundaries," Rosalie says when she brings my receipt.

"He's arrogant but harmless. I'll give him the message, though."

"I took care of that myself." A satisfied smirk settles on her lips.

I kill the last splash in my glass and pass a hefty tip into her palm before walking away.

The normal soundtrack of trumpets and steel guitars is muted by closed doors and rain pelting against the pavement. The parking lot attendant waves from her booth when I pass her and then turns her attention back to the phone in her hand.

My phone sits silent and unmoved in my pocket.

_It's after eleven there now and too late to call again_.

It takes longer than usual to fish my keys from damp denim, and I'm happy to finally sink onto the beat up, black leather seats. The engine doesn't turn with the key.

_Not again._

Last time, it was the alternator. This time, the battery is missing. It's the Golden Rule of Memphis: if something of mine breaks, I'll just take yours.

There's an Auto Zone down Third, but it closed at nine. I can pay $75 to have the car towed a few miles, or I can make the long walk home and only pay the cost of a new battery tomorrow.

_Screw it. _

I grab a thick Memphis Fire Department hoodie from the backseat and lock the car up for the night. An MPD patrol car eases up to the gate when I'm leaving the lot.

Collin rolls down his window. "Hey, Edward. You okay?"

"Somebody lifted my battery." I stop to pull the fleece over my head and tuck my hands and smokes into the front pocket.

"You want me to write it up?"

"Nah. There isn't any point. Can you keep an eye on my car tonight?"

"Black Mustang, old body style, right?"

"That's it."

He swears he'll do his best, and I make my way back over to Beale.

The trolley shut down at midnight, and the buggy drivers headed back to the stables when the rain started. Every cab on Third has already been flagged. If I'm lucky, I may be able to catch one on the way.

Front Street might be a better option, so I stick to Beale, dodging under the various awnings for temporary cover when the rain picks up.

Voices carry from around the corner when I reach Blues City Café. Out of habit, I glance over to make sure all is well. Bella is leaning over a familiar haggard figure and holding out a "to go" box from Rum Boogie. She's trying to convince Captain Mike to take it. He's created a small shelter with his old Piggly Wiggly shopping cart and several large trash bags.

"Captain!" I edge closer, trying to gauge whether he's sober or lit to hell and back. "What's going on?"

His eyes are clear blue, recognition dawning in them almost immediately. "Edward, tell Miss Bella to keep her dinner for herself."

"I told you, Captain." Her voice is soft but firm. "I'm not feeling so good tonight. I won't eat it, and it will just go to waste if you don't take it."

"She's going to stand out here arguing with you in the rain until you do," I say, taking the container from her and pulling a ten from my pocket. "Eat. Have some coffee before the café closes."

He grumbles but takes the food and the money, thanking both of us before pulling a black, heavy duty Hefty bag over his head and shoulders to protect him from the rain.

The light turns green, and Bella follows me across the intersection. She stops when we reach the sidewalk, glancing back at Mike. His shoulders are hunched, and the only things visible are his tangled gray-blonde beard and the white Styrofoam container in his lap.

"Where are you parked?" she asks, moving past me in the direction of The Orpheum. Her face and hair are soaked despite the yellow rain jacket she's wearing.

"My car is in the lot behind the Forum. Someone decided to borrow the battery."

"You've got to be kidding me," she laughs.

I shrug. Charlie Swan is her father. She probably knows more about the fucked up things that go down in this city than I do. And I've seen more than I ever wanted to. A missing car battery is nothing.

She pulls a set of keys from her jacket pocket when we reach the last parking lot on Beale. The fob chirps in her palm, unlocking a red Explorer.

"So, you're going to roam around downtown in the rain until daylight?" she asks.

"I'm seeing you safely to your car, and then I'll walk to Harbor Town."

She frowns, looking up at the sky and shielding her eyes from the rain. "You're not going to walk to Mud Island in this weather. It's got to be at least twenty blocks away. Get in. I'll give you a ride."

She opens her car door and climbs in, shutting it behind her. Immediately, she sheds the bulky jacket and starts the engine. I'd rather walk than ride with her. Even if it is cold. And rainy.

I cover a half of a block in the time it takes her to leave the parking lot.

"Come on, Edward." I can see the tires and the bottom of her truck in my peripheral but keep my gaze focused straight ahead at street lamps and bar signs. "I'll follow you all the way down Front and over the bridge…"

"Go home, Bella."

"You first."

Cars pass and honk, and she ignores them all for another block before I finally cave.

She doesn't speak until after I've buckled my seatbelt and adjusted the heating vents on my side of the truck.

"Why didn't you call someone?" she asks.

"It's late, and it's not that far. I've walked it several times when I've had too many to drive." I fish the pack of Marlboros from my hoodie. "Do you care?" My hand hovers above the window control, waiting for her answer.

"Actually, I do care." She turns her head long enough to give me a hard look. "Killing yourself is one thing–"

"Fine." I shove the smokes back into my pocket and tap my knee with my thumb. "Jesus."

She catches every red light on Front, stretching the silence between us until she decides to end it. "Why does everyone call him Captain Mike? What was he the captain of?"

"He told me he was a riverboat captain from Saint Louis." She smiles after I answer, glancing out her window at the Mississippi as she signals to turn onto Island Drive. "But he told Jasper he was in the Marines. Tanya said she heard that he retired from the airlines."

Her smile fades with the lights of the city behind us. "So no one really knows."

"Take the next right."

She stops at the security gate and enters the code I rattle off to her.

"It's this one." I point straight ahead, and she parks in my normal spot, letting the car idle. "Thanks."

"No hard feelings about earlier, right?" She stares out the car window at the darkness and rain. "Dating just isn't my thing." Her fingers tap against the steering wheel. Then the tapping stops, and she grips the leather.

"Stop acting like I asked you to go steady or go to prom or some shit. I asked you to dinner to figure out what this might be," I say, letting my fingers brush lightly over the lace covering her side. "And to see if there are any others."

She turns to look at me, offering a small, twisted grin. "There are."

"Yeah?" My hand moves to the back of my neck to keep from touching…

_Fuck... _

"Yeah."

"You don't date." She's been more than clear on the topic. But the way she's breathing and tugging metal between her teeth brings to mind a far more important question. "Do you kiss?"

Her eyes meet mine, but instead of leaning closer like I want her to, she turns to stare at the rain again. "Not lately."

There's no bite in her words for a change, no challenge, nothing – only an emptiness that I recognize well. It wasn't meant as a dismissal, but it's clear that our conversation is over. "Thanks again for the ride."

She says "you're welcome" before I open the door and step out into night. I don't look back when the beams of her headlights sweep across the sidewalk in front of me. Instead, I focus on the shadow it creates and cup my hand over a much needed cigarette.

* * *

**A/N- Wow. You guys have blown me away with your response to chapter 1. Lots of theories already. **

**My lips are sealed. ;) **

**Handy Park is a small park located on Beale honoring W.C. (William Christopher) Handy. He's known as The Father of Blues. His song "Memphis Blues" was credited by Vernon and Irene Castle as the inspiration for the foxtrot dance step. In 1916, he wrote a song called "Beale Street Blues." Prior to that, the street was known as Beale Avenue. Local musicians make use of the park and entertain thousands of people yearly. They play for tips and out of a pure love of the music. **

**You can find me on FB or Twitter if you'd like to see a picture.**

**Thanks for reading and I'll see y'all soon. **

**MSC**

**xoxo**


	3. Diving

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight parts. **

**Thanks to Iris for cleaning this up and to M and Nic for pre-reading. Any mistakes left are mine.**

* * *

"Tell me everything you know about Charlie Swan," I say, twisting the cap from a longneck. I toss it into the small, metal bucket my oldest brother, Paul, has hanging from his grill.

"He's my lieutenant," he shrugs. "I know he moved here from Phoenix. Pretty sure it was about twenty years ago. The Deputy Chief of Special Operations caught wind of his experience and recruited him for TACT not long after." He flips a couple of burgers and takes a pull from his beer.

"Memphis is a long way from Arizona."

"I guess."

"What about his daughter?"

He turns to face me, shaking his head. "Holy shit." Before I can ask what he means, he calls over his shoulder. "Jared, get over here."

Our other brother deposits his squirming 2-year-old son in his wife's lap. Kim glares at him playfully and then tries to swat his ass when he walks by. I keep hoping that one day they'll end the honeymoon phase, especially the groping. It's been going on since the late 90s. After all that time and three kids, they should at least be able to control themselves at family functions.

"What do you want, dickhead?"

Paul points to me with his spatula. "This idiot is asking me about Charlie Swan's daughter."

"Seriously?" Jared laughs, accepting the beer I offer from the cooler. "You're fucking his lieutenant's daughter?"

"I haven't touched her."

"You don't sound happy about it, either," Paul says, focusing on lunch again.

"You should see this woman." He might be married, but he wouldn't be busting my balls if he knew what I have to look at for hours on end when I'm at Silky's.

"I've met Bella." He uses tongs to pull hot dogs from the grill and place them on a plate. "She was with Marcus Jackson for a while a couple of years ago. He transferred to the canine unit after they broke up. I talked to her a few times at softball games when she came to watch him play. I'm not positive, but I think she had just moved back here from Knoxville to become an eye doctor or some shit. She still in school?"

"That's what I hear."

"Damn, Edward. Do you even know this girl?" Jared pulls one of my cigarettes from the pack sitting on the armrest of my abandoned lawn chair and lights it.

"She's working at Rum Boogie."

"I'm going to be straight with you." Paul scrubs a hand over the stubble on his jaw. "Charlie Swan is one of the scariest fucking cops I've ever met. He worked on a hardcore gang unit in Maryvale back in Phoenix before he moved here. If you treat his daughter like some cheap piece of ass, he'll gut you and leave you in one of the dumpsters on Beale."

"Nah." I shake my head in denial. "Cops don't fare well in prison."

"Keep thinking that if it helps you sleep at night. Charlie would be running the yard in less than a week."

"What about Marcus?" I ask. "He obviously lived."

"True," Paul admits. "She left him with his balls intact, and so did Charlie. I'm not sure what happened there."

"You're missing the bigger picture here, Paul," Jared says, throwing his free arm over my shoulder. "It seems this girl isn't interested in the brooding or his _pretty_ tattoos." He laughs and moves away quickly to dodge the elbow I aim at his side.

"Shut up, fucker."

It's easy for him to judge. He has the perfect wife, the perfect life – complete with the house in the burbs and 2.5 kids to peek in on when he comes home after 24 on at the small fire station he works at in Germantown.

He drops the cigarette and covers it with his shoe when he spies our mother joining the other party guests on the back porch. Her arms are loaded with gifts for Paul's twins. There's a rare, happy sparkle in her eyes, something we don't see much anymore. It's reserved for family gatherings and holidays.

Paul's wife, Rachel, excuses herself from a group of her friends and meets Mom halfway across the yard. She takes a few of the wrapped presents, so they can share an awkward, one-armed hug.

"You know," Paul says, nodding towards Rachel's sister. "Rebecca is still single, and she's been eyeing you since you got here."

My sisters-in-law are sweethearts – good all the way to the core – but I've had enough of their meddling and blind dates over the last five years. It's always awkward. There's never enough in common with their friends to float a dinner discussion, and most of them only want a hot romp with a tatted fireman to fuel their fantasies for a little while. So I give it to them and don't look back. Rachel's sister would be a complication I don't need. We share a niece and two nephews, and we're guaranteed to be thrown into each other's presence for occasional family gatherings in the foreseeable future.

"I'll pass."

Jared laughs and smacks me on the back of the head before leaving us to say hello to Mom.

"Don't be a dick to Bella," Paul says when we're alone. "I don't need Charlie giving me shit, because you pulled a fuck and dump. I get enough of that from my wife."

"She won't even have dinner with me. Will you stop accusing me of shit I'm not doing?"

"Fine. Don't be a dick to her at all."

_Too late. _Somehow I pissed her off before we even met.

Mom waves me over, so I leave him with the burgers and dogs and carry a couple of lawn chairs over to her. I'm already sure I'm going to want to be sitting down for whatever she wants to say. It's usually a checklist.

"_Are you taking care of yourself?"_

"_Are you eating?"_

"_You look thin. Are you sure you're eating?"_

"_Met any nice girls recently?"_

She covers all of those and a few others before touching on the question I've been dreading.

"When is Makenna coming home?" she asks. "Will she be here before your birthday?"

"I left a message for her a couple of days ago, but I haven't heard from her, yet. I'm going to have to call Charlotte soon to get the exact dates."

"I can't imagine how much she's grown since Christmas. It's hard to believe she's going to be thirteen this year." She sighs, and I can't help but feel responsible for the longing in her voice.

It's not that I don't feel the same. I do. I miss Mack every minute of every fucking day, but there's nothing I can do about it. I'm reminded of that on days like this, watching my two older brothers, their wives, their kids. I'm surrounded by high school sweethearts that have made it for the long haul. My parents were the same way for almost 40 years… until the day my father left for work and never made it home. And that's my fault, too.

It's hard when the people you love most in this world are the ones who make you feel like the biggest failure.

"Edward, I know it's been difficult." She pats my hand and leans closer. "But someday, talking to Charlotte won't be as hard as it is right now. You have a responsibility to your daughter and –"

"I know what my responsibilities are, Mom. I'm the one who bought a phone for Mack. I pay the bill for it just so I can talk to her without dealing with Charlotte's bullshit. Please don't treat me like a child."

"You're 32 years old, but you'll always be _my _child. So will your brothers." Her eyes water, convincing me that a knife to the chest would probably feel better than this. "And Mack will always be yours. Please remember that."

As if I could forget.

I get a small break when Paul announces that lunch is finally ready. Both of my sisters-in-law take over, making plates and sending kids inside to wash up. My nephew, Alec, rescues me by taking the seat next to mine before Rebecca can. He knows I don't wrap or even buy gifts. In all honesty, I'd forgotten about his and Jane's party today until Mom left a voicemail for me last night.

His twin, Jane, sits across from me, and I hand each of them a fifty dollar bill. "I'm sorry I didn't get cards…"

Jane laughs and rolls her eyes. "Don't worry about it, Uncle Edward. This 'party' is more for Mom than us. Money is cool, with or without a card."

"Next year, we'll take cars," Alec says, pocketing the cash.

"Nice try, kid. Talk to your parents about that." They're good kids, and I know for a fact that Paul is already making arrangements to get them rides for their sixteenth next year. If they're expecting something shiny and new, they'll be disappointed. But so far, they seem to have their heads on straight. For teenagers.

Jasper sends a text around three, asking if I can cover for a while tonight. Sam is on the schedule, but he's going to be late.

It's the perfect excuse to cut out early and leave the families to their domestic bliss.

"I'm sorry," Mom says when I hug her goodbye. "I worry about you. I can't help it."

"I know."

Rachel sends a plate of leftovers with me, putting it in my hand when she leans up on her toes to kiss my cheek. "Don't be such a stranger," she says. "We miss you. Paul misses you."

Kim's goodbye is similar, and I'm ready to pull my hair out by the time I finally break away from them and leave.

The drive from East Memphis to downtown takes longer than I expect, and there's not enough time to stop by my apartment and still make it to Silky's by four. My normal spot is open in the lot behind the Forum, and on my way over to Beale, I give the leftovers to a homeless guy pushing a wheelchair filled with tied-off plastic sacks. There's no way the food will keep in the car.

It's Saturday, but there's no sign of Bella at Rum Boogie. Angela is working the tables outside and flirting with Benny every chance she gets.

There's a rush at dinner time thanks to some musical playing down the street at the Orpheum. People come and go. Tourists snap pictures and pose in front of the goats and their tower. And when the sun sets, the music starts and the glow of the neon signs light a multi-colored path on the concrete down the length of the street.

MPD is out in full force, patrolling on bicycles since the weather is nice, so ID checks are crucial. Bella, Alice, and Rosalie turn the corner from Third around nine. They're dressed to kill in short skirts with their arms locked at the elbows. The smile on Bella's face is the most genuine one I've seen to date.

They join the line, waiting to get into Silky's.

"IDs, ladies." I don't give a fuck if I know they're of age. There are too many cops around not to ask.

It's also a good excuse to find out more about her. A glance at Rosalie and Alice's licenses yield a birth year of 1987 for both of them. I hold onto Bella's an extra moment; long enough to see an address on Belvedere and a birth date of September 13, 1985. She snatches it out of my hand and pushes my shoulder with her palm.

"Enough already," she says. "We have celebrating to do."

"What's the occasion?" I ask, happy that for once she's talking to me like a human being and not the scum of the Earth.

"The end of year three," Alice says. "No class until August, just work at the clinic. And here, of course."

"Rosalie is leaving to go home to New York for a couple of weeks, so we're having a girls' night out." Bella is practically bouncing on her heels, eager to get the party started, so I wave them past.

"Have fun."

"We will," Rosalie shouts over her shoulders as they make their way over to the outdoor bar.

Tonight's band is rocking, just two old guys with guitars, covering Joe Cocker and B.B. King while Bella and her friends share a Diver bucket with three straws and snack on po' boys.

Sam finally shows up around ten to relieve me. "Man, I owe you, Edward. My dad fell this morning and broke his arm. It took all fuckin' day at The Med. I'm so sorry."

"No problem. You saved me from a family event." I give up the stool and consider leaving, but a glance over at the bar changes my mind.

The ladies are still working on their bucket. Bella's cheeks are rosy, and she's moving to the rhythm, swaying on her stool. I may have to change my policy on dancing if the mood strikes her again.

It might be the only way I ever get to feel _her._

In an effort not to be obvious, I pick a seat several feet away but still within earshot. Tanya stops in front of me on her way to deliver their second bucket of the night. She glances at Bella, laughing and talking with her friends, and then me. "You want a double?"

"Nah. I'll have a beer."

She stops in her tracks, amusement toying with the corners of her mouth. "Okay. Hungry?"

"Oysters. Raw."

"I'll be back."

"Halle-fuckin-lujah," Rosalie says when Tanya sets the Diver on the bar in front of them. "Cheers."

"Amen." Alice holds both hands up in salutation.

Before I can finish my dinner, a small group of guys shows up, and one of them greets Rosalie with a kiss that has both Bella and Alice turning away in embarrassment. She obviously belongs to him and vice versa from her reaction.

One of his friends asks Bella to dance repeatedly. She rebuffs every one of his advances, but when he puts his hand on her leg and she stiffens, I've had enough.

I leave the last two oysters in their shells, stand, and make my way over to her. If she embarrasses the shit out of me, so be it. At least she'll have an out if she wants it.

"I think I owe you a dance." She looks at my outstretched hand, and this time… This time she doesn't hesitate to take it.

"You do."

She lets me lead her out into the open, right in front of the band. They've moved on to a slower Bob Seger cover, and she steps closer, sliding one hand up my chest and over the skin of my neck. She might be too drunk to notice the shiver her fingers cause when they settle at my hairline.

"Thanks. You didn't have to do that."

"No problem. You won't be thanking me when I step all over your feet."

"You're doing okay so far for someone who doesn't dance."

"It's been a few years." Five to be exact.

"Relax," she whispers, hugging me closer. The soft fuzz of her black sweater feels good against my palm. For a few breathless moments, she rests in my arms with her head against my chest, moving slow and deliberately. "This isn't so bad, right?"

It's a trick question.

"No." Everything about this feels good. Too good. And that in itself has the potential to be very bad. I already spend too much of my time thinking about her. Watching her. Wondering about her. Each time I find out something new, instead of satisfying my curiosity, it makes me want to know more.

She steps on my foot first and apologizes immediately. "I'm so sorry. I don't drink often. I think the last time was at a Christmas party back in December."

"So tonight really is a special occasion?"

"I survived dissecting cadaver eyeballs this semester," she laughs. "Next year should be a piece of cake. Hell yeah, that's worth celebrating."

"When you put it that way…" Jared wears contacts and watching him touch his eyes to put them in made me cringe every single time he did it front of me back in high school. It was one of the many ways he liked to torture me.

"It was the part I've been dreading the most since I started."

The song ends, and the band announces a small break, promising to return for a second set in a half hour.

Bella stands still with her fingers still buried in my hair, her body still pressed against mine. "That was nice," she says. The small smile she gives me feels like a huge victory considering how little we've spoken and how much she seemed to hate me when we met.

We're the only ones left in the area reserved for dancing, and people are starting to stare. "It was. Thank you."

"I should…" She thumbs over her shoulder to her friends.

"Yeah. Of course."

And just like that, it's over and she's walking away.

Rosalie and her boyfriend take off first, leaving Alice and Bella to finish the last of the Diver. It doesn't take them long to knock it out.

Tanya offers them a third, but Bella declines. "I'm done. Nice and toasted. Time to go."

"I'll walk you out," Alice says.

"Goodnight, Edward." Bella lifts her hand to wave goodbye, tilting and overcompensating to keep from stumbling.

"How are you getting home?" I ask.

"I'll get a cab."

The hell she will. I leave enough to cover my bill and a tip tucked under a half-full Ghost River longneck. "I'll take you."

"Midtown is out of the way for you."

"Like Harbor Town was for you?" I grab my jacket from behind the bar and wait for her to make up her mind.

Alice watches us from her seat, grinning over our small battle of wills. Bella is stubborn. I've seen that much.

So am I.

Bella finally nods and leads the way out of the courtyard onto Beale. I've already pressed my luck with her tonight, so I tuck my hands in my pockets to keep from touching her.

"Are you behind the Forum again?" she asks, pausing on the corner.

"Yeah. It's the closest lot, and it has an attendant." I don't want to tell her what to do, but I wish she'd consider making it her regular spot, too. The one she was parked in last weekend has zero security.

She's quiet during the walk, concentrating on something and staring at the sidewalk.

"Nice ride," she says as I unlock the passenger door for her. "I see you got a new battery."

"I did."

"You should invest in a car alarm."

"You know as well as I do that it won't do a damn bit of good around here."

She sighs instead of arguing. People in this city are desensitized. The parking lot attendant is making minimum wage to sit in a shack and "watch" people come and go all night. I don't expect her to risk her life over car parts that can be replaced. Her only responsibility is to collect the cash and pick up the phone to dial 911 if someone gets hurt.

"I'm on Belvedere, the Poplar end near Joe's."

I already knew that from her license, but she might worry that I'm a stalker if I tell her that. "Not on the Central end?"

She smiles, leaning her head against the rest. "No. No three-story mansions for me."

"Not yet, huh?" I downshift for a red light in front of Joe's, and she stares out the window at the giant, spinning liquor store sign. "After graduation, you'll be rolling in the big bucks."

"After graduation, I'll be rolling in student loan payments." She leans forward in her seat when I turn onto her street. "It's the one with the twinkle lights on the porch."

The house is small, tucked in behind several Bradford pear trees, and boasts a typical, narrow Midtown driveway.

"Do you want to come in for a beer?" she asks.

The overwhelming curiosity gets the best of me, and I accept.

There are two figures outside on the screened-in front porch. "These are my roommates…" She waves her hand at the guy on an old, wooden swing in the corner. "That's Liam. He's an asshole most of the time." He must be used to her drunken forwardness, because he waves and lifts a small bong to his face without a word. "This is Sasha," she continues, pointing to the girl next to him. "She likes it rough, and her stupid boy toys keep us awake at ungodly hours. This is Edward. We, uh… work together. Sort of."

Sasha blows a kiss in our direction and winks. "Hey."

"Fuck off, Sasha," Bella says. She opens the door and trips over the small step on her way into the house. "He's too old for you." I try to catch her arm to help her, but she yanks it away. "I've got this."

"I'm sure you do," I agree.

I follow her into the living room and watch her drop her bag next to a plush red, retro sofa. She stops to pet a fat, orange and white tabby resting on the arm rest.

"This is Bub. Short for Beelzebub." The cat turns onto his back and wraps his front paws around her wrist while sinking his teeth into the flesh of her palm. "Fucker." She strokes his cheek until his chest rumbles with a low purr. "He hates people." She untangles her hand and leads me into the kitchen.

"You have an accent when you drink."

"I do. Most of the time, it's not so bad, but the South has managed to rub off on me since I've been here."

"How long has that been?" Paul's guess was twenty years. I want facts.

"We moved here when I was ten." She opens the fridge and pulls a Bud Light from the door. "Sorry. These are Sasha's." She twists the cap off before offering it to me with a smile. Our fingers touch when she passes it into my hand.

"You're not having one?"

"I'm pretty sure I've had enough for the night. I need to get horizontal. Soon." She moves around me, leading the way back to the living room. "You could stay. For a while. If you want to."

She leans with her back against the wall, studying the hardwood floor while I take a pull from the beer and prepare to shoot myself in the foot.

"I should go," I say. She nods, still avoiding eye contact. I hand her the bottle, and she takes a swig of what's left as I make my way over to the front door. "I'll see you at work."

"Sure." My hand is on the knob when she speaks again. "Maybe you're not such a bad guy after all."

If she knew how much I want to stay, how much I want to feel her sheets against my back while she moves over me, she'd swallow those words… and more, if I could have my way.

But I'll be damned if I take advantage of this woman while she's drunk. She's never given me any sign while sober that she wants it, and I don't cross blurred lines.

Even if I know I'm going to hate myself for it. Tonight. Tomorrow. Every time I think about this moment.

"Maybe." For once, I don't want to see her face. So I walk out, wondering if it was loneliness and booze that prompted the invitation. Or something… more.

The door closes behind me, and Sasha looks up from her spot on the swing. "That was fast," she laughs. "Don't take it personally. Bella has a habit of shooting people down. Ask Liam. He knows all about it."

He glares at her and snatches the bong from her hands. "Shut the fuck up, Sasha."

"Goodnight." I don't linger. I'm not interested in Sasha's theories about what just happened in their house. She can think what she wants to. It's none of her business.

As much as I hate to admit it, I have a feeling she just answered my question.

* * *

**A/N- A few Memphis girls have reviewed and confessed to owning empty Diver buckets. This makes me smile. If you ever visit and decide to order one, my advice is to drink it fast. :)**

**Thanks for reading! See y'all soon. **

**MSC**


	4. Restless

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight parts. **

**Thanks to Iris for cleaning this up and to M and Nic for pre-reading. Any mistakes left are mine.**

* * *

"_Ashes to ashes, Edward. Death is just a part of life."_

His voice is an echo.

The crunch and then high keening of metal being ripped gives way to the alarm and the sound of a half dozen men being roused from sleep. I inhale deeply to rid my mind of the smell of gasoline and the taste of blood. Dreams have a way of bringing back things that are easier buried in the daylight.

I step into my pants and hook one suspender to keep them up on the way down to the truck. The rest of my shit can wait for the ride. McCarty does the same, following close on my heels.

"We've got a kitchen fire, third floor, over at the Central Station Apartments. Load up." Garrett takes the wheel and hits the siren before easing the truck out onto Third.

It's one o'clock in the morning, so the streets are dead, save Beale, where the lights are always on. We pass Bella's normal parking lot, but her truck isn't there. Not that I expected it to be on a Wednesday morning.

There's a woman on one of the third floor balconies when we arrive at the scene. She's wet and wrapped in a white towel, batting at smoke from an open sliding glass door with a pillow.

"What the hell is she doing?" Emmett asks, leaning in his seat to get a better look.

"Who knows? If she needs the ladder, you're going."

"That's the best order you've ever given me, Cullen."

The woman leans over the rail to shout down at us. "False alarm. I burned a pizza. You can go."

"We have to come up and check things out, ma'am," Emmett says. "We had more than one call. Your neighbors are concerned."

She drops the pillow and raises her voice. "My neighbors are jerks, and a few of them yelled at me before they went back to bed."

Garrett and Emmett walk upstairs to make sure everything is on the level. If we leave and this place burns to the ground, it would rest on our shoulders.

I stay close to the truck, using the free time to have a smoke. Our lieutenant, Max, walks over to join me after Emmett radios that everything is fine. "You need to trim the facial hair, Edward. When it starts to block the seal, it's got to go."

I don't argue. Rules are rules. "I'll take care of it tomorrow."

Emmett comes out with the woman's number. She's a nurse at Methodist. Tonight, she decided to take a nice hot bath after a twelve-hour shift. She woke up three hours later in a tub of cold water with a Digiorno burnt to a stone crisp, smoking in her oven and neighbors pounding on her door.

There's no sleep for me when we get back to the station. I'm wired now, and so is Emmett. We stay up playing video games until dawn. Instead of cooking breakfast, he wakes the new guy, Eric, and makes him do it.

My shift ends at eight, and I spend the morning picking up groceries and paying bills. At ten, I call Epiphany to see if Senna can fit me in for a cut.

"Trim the chops this time," I tell her when I climb into her chair an hour later.

"Why don't you let me shave them off instead?" She holds a straight razor in the air.

"No."

"Fine." She offers me a drape and reaches for the clippers. "I'll never understand why you want to hide such a pretty face."

"You're starting to sound like my mother, Senna."

"So, keep everything the same? Just shape it up?"

"Take the hair a little shorter this time."

"Got it."

She cuts my hair first. Then she uses clippers to trim up my face. "You've got a few stray grays around your temple," she says. "In case you haven't noticed."

"I'm thirty-two."

"My cousin is seventeen and already has several," she shrugs. "I can get rid of them if you want."

"I'm good."

"You're all done, then." She sweeps the hair from my neck, dusts my hairline with powder, and unfastens the clip of the drape. "See you in a few weeks."

The sun is bright, and the downtown streets are bustling with the lunch hour crowd. After a quick trip to the liquor store, I walk down Main Street trying to decide what to get for lunch.

Sushi at Bluefin is tempting, but I stop in my tracks when I see a couple being seated at one of the outdoor tables.

An older man wearing a suit pulls out one of the metal chairs and waits for Bella to sit before taking the seat across from hers.

I've seen him before. I can't place him, but I know him from somewhere. It's Bella I almost didn't recognize.

Gone are the athletic shoes she wears to work at Rum Boogie, replaced by black heels. She's wearing a white lab coat, and the lip ring is missing. With her arms covered and her hair pulled back, she looks like a different person. As I study her, looking for something of the girl I see on Beale, she pulls off the jacket. The black turtleneck dress she's wearing is sleeveless, and I feel like I can breathe again when I see the familiar blue waves.

Her companion sheds his jacket, too. She seems completely at ease, leaning forward to listen when he speaks and occasionally interrupting him. This isn't a professional lunch. Their server appears to take their order, and Bella speaks first. She sets down her menu and glances out at Main, locking her gaze on me after a moment.

She gives a quick nod of acknowledgment and then turns her attention back to her… friend.

I force my feet to move. This is only the second time I've seen Bella since I left her standing alone in her house. She and I both worked on Saturday, but she kept her eyes on her side of the street. No grimace, no wave… nothing. The more she ignored me, the more I stared at her.

After today, I'll be expecting a restraining order.

I buy an extra sandwich at a deli on the way home to save the trouble of leaving the apartment again before I absolutely have to.

Mack's ringtone finally sounds from my pocket around sunset when I've settled on the patio with a bottle of Maker's and an unopened pack of smokes.

"Hey," I answer.

"Hey, Dad. Sorry I missed your call. I was cosmic bowling with some friends."

"For two weeks?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. When is your last day of school? I need to book your flights."

"You don't have to this time. We're all flying in the first week of June. Mom wants to see Nonnie and Paw. Since they're coming, too, Peter bought my ticket and left the return date open. You and Mom need to talk about that part."

"Yeah. I'll call her." There are a few things I'd like to remind her about Mack's summers with me. "How is school? Everything okay?"

"School is dumb, and I hate it."

_This is new._

"I thought you liked school…"

"Dad, seriously. No one likes school."

"Are your classes too hard?"

"No."

"Is this about a boy?" She's only twelve. If Charlotte is letting her "date," our conversation is going to be decidedly unpleasant.

"Ugh. No, Dad. I've got homework to do, and I have a yoga class in an hour."

"Oh." This is new, too. She's never been too busy to talk to me before. "Okay. I'll… let you get on with it. I love you, Mack."

"Love you, too. I'll call soon."

I'm going to need sleep before I try to talk to Charlotte. Giving myself an extra day might help me cool off some about Peter buying Mack's ticket. In the end, it shouldn't matter how she gets here as long as she gets here.

Paul says I have to stop letting that little fucker get under my skin. I know he's right, but some things are easier said than done. My mother says that holding on to this anger will allow it to eat me alive. She's in serious denial if she thinks I haven't already been swallowed whole.

Half a bottle of bourbon is missing when I wake up sometime after three in the morning, still on the patio, only stretched out and freezing on the lounger.

The next time my eyes open, I'm in my bed and it's just after six. There are two missed calls when I find my phone, both from Jasper.

I send him a text to let him know I'm working until 8am tomorrow. He'll have to find someone else to cover.

Mornings like this are the reason I moved downtown to be close to the station. A hot shower and black coffee fail to give me the kickstart I need, and I barely make it to work on time.

Jasper texts around noon to let me know the bar isn't his problem this weekend. He's off, and he has extra tickets and VIP passes to the music festival. He got them from his cousin who works at the local radio station. I'll have three days off to kill, and it's close enough to walk home.

I accept and agree to meet him at Silky's on Friday around six. My plan is to leave work in the morning, catch a nice long nap, and then drown in good music and beer until Monday.

It doesn't exactly work out that way since we're on a call at a burning warehouse when I'm supposed to be headed home the next morning. By the time I get home and shower, I have to debate whether or not a four-hour nap is even worth it.

Exhaustion wins out in the end.

I'm late showing up at Silky's, and I almost turn around when I see the large crowd around Jasper… Alice, Jake, Leah, Felix, and Bella.

The great thing about the music festival is multiple stages, which means multiple artists performing at the same time. I should be able to help Bella ignore me by staying out of her way.

"Hey, Edward," she says. There's a bottle of water in her hand and a small smile on her face. "You look like you had a rough day."

"I could use another twelve hours of sleep, but it can wait until tomorrow."

"Drink this and we'll go," Jasper says, holding out a double. I kill it and leave the shot glass upside down on the counter.

Tanya pours a Ghost River into a tall plastic cup for me, so I can have it "to go." Somehow, in the shuffle down Beale towards Riverside Drive, Bella ends up next to me, a few feet behind everyone else.

"I can't remember if I thanked you for the ride home," she says, focusing on buttoning up her Army jacket.

"It's not a big deal."

"Can't you just say, 'You're welcome?'"

"Okay. You're welcome."

"I'm sorry about my roommates, or more specifically, the weed."

"I don't care about that." She steps up next to me at the trolley platform down on Riverside. "I bet that makes for interesting visits from Charlie, huh?"

"He knows to call first, and they know there's a no smoking rule indoors. He calls and texts a lot, but it's rare for him to visit because of my weird hours. I'm always working or at school."

She boards the trolley before me when it arrives and steps to the back, out of the way. I follow to see if she'll keep talking.

"I signed the lease on the house before I found them," she says over her shoulder. "They may be stoners, but they both pay rent. On time. Do you know how hard it is to find reliable roommates?"

"No, not really." Jared and I shared an apartment for a year before I got married, but I'm not sure family counts.

"It isn't easy. People are… weird. And a lot of them don't like to pay up on due day." She bumps into me when the trolley begins to move toward Tom Lee Park. It only takes a moment for her to find her balance, and then she settles on the bench. "Sorry," she says.

"Your lip ring is back."

"I wear a nude stud when I'm working." She grimaces. "Flesh-colored, I mean. The clinic at SCO is strict, since it's a part of the school."

"Is it weird? Changing it out?"

"No, I've been doing it since my first visit home to see Charlie my freshman year of college."

"You hide it from your dad?"

"Not anymore." She stands when we come to a stop and follows Alice, Jasper, and Felix off of the trolley and into the crowd. "He can be… protective, really overprotective. So, yeah, I hid the piercing and the tats for a while."

"That must've been hard in the summer months." Long sleeves and humidity don't mix, especially when the temps are boiling.

"It was a short while. The sleeves are recent. He doesn't care about the tattoos. He has six." She glances at me and smiles. "It's the lip ring he hates."

We get separated at the gate, herded into two different ticket lines, but once we're through security, she makes her way over to me before looking for the others.

"Here." She holds out a map with color codes for the different stages and the schedule of tonight's performers.

The bands she wants to see are what I'd expect, for the most part. She likes good music. We'll be together for most of the night, but I won't choose Hall and Oates over Alice in Chains for her or any woman on this planet.

The lines are long for beer and for the portable johns. Once we have cold ones in hand, we make our way across the park. We pass through a few skunk clouds despite the fact that the boys in blue are out, heavy and patrolling the crowd. They'll be busy tonight, guaranteed.

"Bella!" A petite, pregnant girl waves, and the rest of us stop when Bella does. "Wow. I almost didn't recognize you."

Her name is Bree, and from what I gather from the conversation, they went to high school together and haven't seen each other since. Bree introduces her husband. Bella introduces each of us, unfairly sucking us into this awkward, post-high school vortex of small talk. It doesn't last long, though, and soon they're saying goodbye and making plans to meet for coffee.

"Where did you go to high school?" I ask Bella on the way over to the Orion Stage.

"Immaculate Conception."

"IC? Are you Catholic?" It's hard not to picture it, her body in one of those uniforms. Then I remember that I was married with a kid when she was in high school, and I feel like a gross, old fucker.

"I'm not anything, and neither is Charlie." She looks over at me smiles. "Overprotective, remember?"

"He sent you to a private school because he's protective?"

"Back in Arizona, his old partner's son was stabbed at school as retribution for a cousin's arrest. IC is an all girls' school with good security and a nurse on campus."

"I've heard the coursework there is insane."

"It was grueling, especially senior year. My physics class was a dual enrollment with Christian Brothers University. It was college level and taught by a CBU professor."

"Damn."

"That strong science foundation has worked out in my favor. I'm not complaining. What about you? Where did you go to school?"

"White Station."

"Liam went to White Station," she says. "It's a tough school, too."

"It is if you're a transfer student there on academic performance. I didn't have to qualify academically since I grew up in the neighborhood. I didn't have to qualify, so I didn't. My brothers didn't have to qualify, either, but they both took honors courses and worked their asses off."

"So you didn't do the college prep program?"

"I didn't see the point." I glance down at the MFD logo sewn onto my hoodie. "My first real bed was shaped like a fire truck. I spent most of high school daydreaming about being a firefighter like my dad and brother. I've always known I'd end up here."

"But Paul is a cop. He works with my dad…"

"My other brother. Jared is the middle kid. He's four years older than me, two years younger than Paul. He worked for Memphis back then. Now, he's out in Germantown."

"That's really cool. I… uh…" She glances at me and then the ground in front of us. "I'm sorry about your dad. I remember hearing about it on the news, and my ex, Marcus, went to his memorial service with Charlie."

There was a sea of men and women in uniform there, and I shook hands with so many people that the faces and names blurred together and are still muddled in my mind to this day. I remember watching Paul deliver the eulogy, but I can't remember a fucking word he said. The only thing that felt real at the time was Mack's hand in mine.

I never know what to say when people bring this up. It's not something I want to talk about. Ever.

"I need another beer. You want a Coke or something?"

She shakes her head, frowning and tugging metal between her teeth. "No. I've got water." She motions to her oversized purse.

Jasper stays with me at the nearest vendor, and the others find a spot in the audience, thirty people deep from the stage but center. We each buy two beers, so we won't have to wait in line again for a while. Before we get to the crowd, we kill the first two gulps of each beer. At $8 a pop, I'm not giving a drop to the ground.

Bella, Alice, and Leah dance in front of us all night. It's distracting but better than the couples pairing off and getting romantic. We stand behind them, blocking them from the pushy drunk people in the crowd.

Felix wants to ditch early to find good spots at the FedEx stage. Leaving before the current band finishes is a good idea.

"We're going to get a head start," I say to Jasper. "Thanks for the tickets."

He waves me off, but before I can get away, Bella grabs my arm. "Are you coming tomorrow?" she asks.

"Yeah. You?"

She nods. "I'll see you then."

It doesn't sound like she minds. In fact, she almost looks pleased. The warmth of her hand disappears, and she turns back to the band.

AIC plays longer than any of the other bands we've seen tonight. They're last on the bill for this stage, and they don't shut it down until almost one. Felix is shitfaced, and I'm not far from it. It hits me during the walk back over to Riverside that I have no idea how Bella is getting home.

She drank water, so maybe she was the designated driver. If they decided to get cabs and left her alone…

Felix flags one to take him to his place in Midtown. He gives me a weird look when I climb into the cab after him.

"I need to check on something."

He nods and spends the ride to his apartment with his eyes closed and his head leaned against the seat. The driver looks at me after Felix exits the car and shuts the door behind him without a word.

"Are you two having a spat?" the driver asks.

"A spat?"

"Nevermind. If you're not staying, then where are you going?"

I should say Harbor Town. I need to take a piss and then sleep for a year. "Joe's at Pop–"

"I know where Joe's is. It's almost closing time. You'd better not be dicking me around, man."

"Joe's."

He huffs and mutters under his breath during the two-minute drive over to Joe's. Bella's truck is parked out front of her house, and there's a light on upstairs. I convince myself it's hers, because that's the only way I'll be able to sleep tonight.

Then I tell the driver to take me home.

* * *

**A/N- Ghost River is a local beer, produced and distributed in downtown Memphis. Try it if you ever get the chance. It's good stuff.**

**Thanks, Nic and Everyfreakingbody, for nominating this story over at The Lemonade Stand. It's up for FotW if you'd like to vote for it. :)**

**Thanks for reading! See you soon.**

**MSC**

**xoxo**


	5. Respite

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight parts. **

**Thanks to Iris for cleaning this up and to M and Nic for pre-reading. Any mistakes left are mine.**

* * *

I don't crawl out of bed until well after noon Saturday. Now that I've shaken off work and caught up on rest, it's time for round two.

Jasper sends a text around four, asking if it's okay to park here. Traffic is jacked all over downtown, and every lot is full. Alice and Bella are with him in the FJ when he parks in the empty spot next to my car.

We're able to hustle over to the mainland and catch a trolley in front of the bus station.

"You're close to both of your jobs," Bella says, staring out the window at The Pyramid. "I like Rum Boogie, but I miss being able to ride my bike to work."

"Did you work with Alice at Applebee's?"

She glances over at her friend, who's currently resting her head on Jasper's shoulder. "No, I worked with Rosalie at Molly's La Casita."

Molly's borders Overton Square, so I can see how business may have slowed enough for her to seek new employment.

"I haven't been to Molly's in years." It used to be one of my favorite restaurants when I lived in Midtown. It was also one of Charlotte's favorites. I let her keep it after the divorce, along with most of our old friends. In the end, it didn't matter since she ended up deserting them, too, a few years later for her new husband and his new job in Seattle.

"I could live off of their salsa," she says. "Have you eaten? We haven't, and I promised Alice I'd have a drink with her tonight since Jasper is driving. I'm going to need food."

"I had leftover fried rice for breakfast around one. I could go for some dinner."

There are long waits everywhere, so our choices are narrowed to Silky's or Rum Boogie if we want to make any of the good bands. It's nice having "ins" around here. Jasper says he'd like to split a Diver. He'll have plenty of time to sober completely by the time we're done tonight, so Bella and Alice agree.

Silky's is packed, but one of Jasper's perks as a manager is being able to seat himself in the closed off section right behind the small stage in the courtyard.

"I can't believe I'm doing this again," Bella says. "I felt like shit for two days after the last bucket you talked me into."

"I'll drink half of your share anyway, lightweight," Alice shrugs.

Jasper's buying, and he orders four straws and easy on the ice. There's a long wait for the food, but that's to be expected on a night like this. We spend the time talking about the music from last night and what we have to look forward to tonight.

Dinner comes out piping hot and delicious, as always.

"Do they always do that?" Bella asks. She points to the goats. They're sitting on the ramp of their tower, eyes focused on our table.

"Only when they're thirsty," I say.

She looks at me and laughs. "What do they drink?"

"Water, but Kevin is lusting over our Diver."

The laughing stops, and her eyes narrow. "Why would your goat want our Diver?"

"Every now and then, we get a wiseass who thinks it's funny to let the goats have a sip of their beer or margarita. Kevin can suck down an entire longneck before I have time to walk from the gate over to the pen."

"That damn goat tried to eat the bottle the last time it happened," Jasper says. "I had to wrestle it away from him."

"You guys are serious," Bella says. "You have an alcoholic goat."

"Two, actually. Fintan isn't as aggressive, but he'll still throw one back."

The drinking loosens her up enough to talk between bites. She's going to be working tomorrow and almost every day next week to pay Angela back for covering for her this weekend. Her regular days at the clinic are Tuesdays and Wednesdays until classes begin again in August.

My phone vibrates in my jacket pocket. I miss having the option of ignoring it, but I try not to miss calls from Mack unless I'm working. It's Charlotte's name on the screen, so I reject it. It's too loud for any kind of conversation on my end, anyway. If it's important, she'll call back.

A second, shorter buzz sounds a minute later. It's a text.

_We're flying in on June 2nd. Call me if you want the flight details. I need to talk to you while we're in town. Maybe lunch?_

The last time she needed to talk to me, it was to let me know that Mack was going to be a big sister. Neither of us stayed for the meal that day. Whatever this latest news is can surely be covered over coffee.

"Put it away, Edward." Jasper points to my phone. "It can wait until tomorrow."

_Coffee._

Answering now is better than listening to her bitch tomorrow if I don't. Then I take his advice and pocket the phone. "It's fine. I'll be back in a few."

I leave them at our table and take a temporary spot at the outdoor bar to catch a smoke. Bella moved away from me and kept her distance every time I lit up last night. I'm guessing she's allergic.

My jacket buzzes again.

_Okay._

Something is definitely up. That was too easy.

I catch Randall's attention and signal for a beer. The ice has started to melt in the Diver, and that's when I'm done. There's nothing worse than watered-down liquor.

They're ready to go by the time I get back to our table.

"Are Jake and Leah coming tonight?" I ask Bella during the walk to the trolley stop.

"She's working today, but she said they would be here later before The Black Keys play."

"Where does she work?"

"Molly's. She hooked up with Jake after a night of multiple Call-a-Cab daiquiris at Willie's." She laughs. "God, that makes it sound bad when it really wasn't. They'd known each other a long time. They'd just never been single at the same time."

Interesting. Maybe Bella was craving something _bad_ the night she made her offer.

This time, we stay together and make it through security as group. The sun is close to setting, paused at the edge of the river, waiting for Patti Smith to close before it disappears.

Bella and Alice leave to get beer when the stage crew comes out to set up for Dwight Yoakam. Everyone worth seeing is playing this stage tonight. When they get back, Bella has two beers in hand.

"I hope Budweiser is okay," she says, holding one out to me. "There was nothing local on tap."

"It's fine. How much do I owe you?"

"Just hit me back later."

She sips hers, making it last through almost the entire set. It's probably wise considering the Diver earlier.

When the band leaves the stage the first time, she grabs my arm. "Come with me?"

I nod and start moving through the crowd with her on my heels. Leaving before the encore should mean less time in line. Instead of walking toward the beer vendors, she leads me to the row of Porta Potties.

"Ugh. I can't believe this. So nasty." She stops in front of one, inspects the insides, and turns to me. "Will you wait for me? I just need a second."

"Go for it." I'm surprised she's lasted this long. Alice has already made the trip twice.

After a deep breath, she disappears inside, and the indicator on the door shifts from green to red. I step out of the way but keep her stall in sight, taking advantage of the opportunity to burn half of a smoke. I put it out as soon as she pushes open the door and steps out.

The sleeves of her jacket are rolled up, and she walks over to me slowly, dragging the bottoms of her black rain boots against the grass.

"You don't even want to know what I think was on the floor in there." She shudders and cringes, using sanitizer from her bag to cleanse her hands. "Do you want some?"

I can smell the strange mix of berries and alcohol from here. "No, thanks."

We find a vendor with a short line and stand next to each other at the end of it for a couple of silent, awkward minutes.

"How long have you worked at Silky's?" she asks.

"A couple of years."

After Mack moved away, I had time on my hands. Too much time on my hands. Jasper got sick of hearing me bitch about it, so he put me to work.

"The fire department?"

There's no way to say this without sounding ancient. For some reason, a handful of years feels like a lifetime between me and this woman. "Almost thirteen years. I went to State Tech first to become a paramedic. Then, I went straight to fire school."

"Full speed ahead, huh?"

"I had a plan," I shrug. "What about you?"

"My plan was simple. Get away from Charlie for a few years while I worked on my undergrad in Knoxville, and then move home for optometry school. Sounds easy, right?" She glances at me for a moment but continues without waiting for an answer. "Anyway. The freedom went to my head a little, and I almost lost my scholarship during my second year."

"Partying?" Five guys from my graduating class lost scholarships at UT their first year there.

"No." Her cheeks turn pink. "First boyfriends can be very distracting."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Anyway, I blew an entire semester, so it took me some extra time to graduate. In the middle of all that, he found a new girlfriend. Then I met a new guy with a plan of his own. We saved up for a while, and after graduation, we went to Europe for a couple of months."

"That's a long vacation."

"We had nothing better to do. I knew I'd have to buckle down for optometry school, and I wanted to live for a while."

I'm not going to bother asking about the guy. He obviously didn't last through the move back to Memphis. "How did Charlie like that? You on another continent?"

"He didn't. Not one bit. But he got over it. I knocked half of my bucket list off in one trip."

"You had a bucket list at twenty-two?"

"I started it when I was nine."

I almost ask about her mother. Nine is incredibly young to have a concept of death clear enough to make a list of the things you want to do before it finds you. She's only ever mentioned Charlie and his overprotectiveness.

I decide against it since it's our turn to order, and that's a topic I'd like to avoid at all costs.

She lets me buy her a beer to repay her. "You're pacing yourself much better than last time," I say, pointing to the cup in her hand.

"I'm not kidding. I felt horrible." She stops walking and tugs the sleeve of my hoodie to get my attention. "It was more than just the normal hangover crap." She looks at her shoes. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"Not uncomfortable. Well, maybe a little." The ride home wasn't a relaxed one. "It's not a big deal. I've seen Divers make people do much worse…"

She winces, and I don't even blame her. I get it. She has everything in the world going for her. No reason to go slumming with some jackass who has an ogling problem.

Her phone vibrates in her jacket pocket. It's Leah calling. They're here.

Bella looks around, describing where we are and giving her directions until she and Jake come into view. We make our way back to the VIP section, which has thinned some since its set change.

We make it through a few more beers and two bands before the rain starts with errant drops, which quickly turn into a steady – albeit light – shower. Locals know to be prepared, so all around us, people don disposable ponchos, and the show goes on.

We've been here for hours, and Jasper and I only have hoodies over t-shirts. He loses patience, calling it when the ground softens to mud. "Let's go back to Silky's. This is bullshit."

Jake and Leah decide to stay, but the rest of us ditch. There isn't a cab or trolley in sight, so we fall in behind the other deserters and make the trek to Beale. This time, we choose a table indoors, opting for warmth, recorded riffs, and nachos.

"You know of anybody wanting to pick up some extra cash this summer?" Jasper asks. "Sam's kids get out of school at the end of the month. You'll be busy with Mack. I may need an extra guy on speed dial."

"I'll ask around at the station."

"What's mack?" Alice looks between us. "Some kind of training or something? Or a special team, like TACT?"

"What?" Jasper laughs. "How in the hell…? You know what? Nevermind. Mack is a person." He glances at me to see if I'm okay with him explaining.

"_Makenna_ is my daughter. She spends summers with me."

"Oh." Alice glances at Bella, but Bella is already focused on me.

I meet her stare, because if there's one good thing in my life, one thing I'm proud of… it's Mack. After a few silent moments, she stands, nearly knocking her chair over. "I'll be right back."

Alice follows her, and they disappear into the ladies' restroom.

_Fuck it_. Age seems like a small difference now compared to her reality and mine.

"Have Angela bring my check."

Jasper nods and signals her at the bar. I kill my drink and head in the opposite direction, up the stairs and down the hall to the men's bathroom. It's the size of a fucking broom closet, but it's better than pissing in a smelly portable.

Bella is waiting in the shadows, right outside the door. "I didn't want to like you," she says. "You were right about that." Her arms are crossed, and she's leaning against the wall. "A couple of years ago, I overheard a conversation between your brother's wife and a girlfriend of another TACT guy at a softball game."

"Rachel?"

She nods. "It was none of my business, and I misinterpreted something I shouldn't have been listening to in the first place."

There is a list of things Rachel could have said about me a couple of years ago, most of them negative and true. She said them to my face, and I understand why. Mack leaving affected her family, too, especially Jane. They're more than cousins. They're friends. My entire family was crushed.

"I'm sorry." The cool metal of her ring is followed by soft lips against my cheek where skin meets chops, and I know… I know I'm absolutely fucked. She confirms it with her next word. "Friends?"

Her hand is extended between us, and I don't make her wait for my agreement. We shake on it. "Friends."

"I expected you to smell like an ashtray," she says, walking backward toward the stairs.

"Do I?" Her words are offensive, but at least she's been thinking about it enough to form an opinion. That's got to mean something.

"No." She lingers on the top step. "Warm bourbon." It takes me a moment to figure out that she's waiting for me to come with her.

We walk down together, and the others are ready to go. We pay and then brace ourselves for the cold rain before stepping out onto Beale. Jasper flags a cab when it drops a couple of frat boys at B.B. King's. The driver doesn't allow riders up front, so Alice sits on Jasper's lap, and Bella gets stuck between them and me.

She doesn't have much room, pressed against my side like this, and occasionally, she smiles or apologizes. For me, the ride isn't nearly long enough. Her hair is wild, curling over her shoulder and my arm, and she smells like fresh rain.

The cab driver idles in front of my unit while we unload and Jasper covers the fare. Alice waits for him next to his car, but Bella stops to say goodbye. "Have fun tomorrow," she says. "I hate that I'm going to miss it."

"Yeah, it should be a good time."

As the cab pulls away, the rain picks up again, and Bella lifts the hood of her jacket. "I'll see you sometime next week, I'm sure."

"I'll be around."

She waves and climbs into the FJ, and I'm left staring at taillights again in the rain, convinced by a tiny kiss on the cheek that friends isn't nearly enough.

* * *

**A/N- I'm sorry it took so long to update. December has been a doozey. After the holidays, I'm hoping to get back to once a week updates. That's my goal, anyway. **

**A few lovely Down Home readers nominated Mississippiward and his Bella in 3 categories over at The Fandom Choice Awards. Thanks, y'all! If you'd like to vote for them, you can do so until Jan 3. Love you guys for loving them so much!**

**For those who celebrate, I hope you guys have an awesome, happy Christmas! See you in January. **

**-MSC**


	6. Stepping Out

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight parts. **

**Thanks to Iris for cleaning this up and to M and Nic for pre-reading. Any mistakes left are mine.**

* * *

"I'm surprised you aren't working for Jasper tonight," Jared says, turning into my normal lot behind the forum.

"You texted first." My brothers get Red Birds season tickets every year. In a family as big as ours, there is always someone to step in if one of them can't make a game.

Beale isn't nearly as loud or busy as it will be a few hours from now, but there's a decent dinner crowd, considering it's Tuesday. We're running late because of a bicycle flat tire emergency Jared had to handle for my nephew, Lee.

Bella steps out of Rum Boogie with a loaded tray balanced on one hand and two beer mugs in the other.

Jared whistles under his breath. "That must be her."

"Told you, fucker."

The pink Rum Boogie t-shirt she's wearing is perfectly fitted over each curve and slope. Her hair is wavier than normal, thanks to the humidity, and she's wearing shorts instead of jeans. The tips of bold, red petals are visible on her thigh when she walks, kicking my imagination into overdrive.

I can tell from her sleeves, she doesn't do junk. That's more than some random flower growing on her leg. I want to know how high it climbs, if it wraps, touches her ass…

She catches me staring and waves, smiling and keeping her promise of "friends" from a few days ago.

We don't have a chance to chat since she's busy with customers when we reach her corner, but she calls my name before we get to the end of the block.

"Are you coming back?" She fans her face with her trusty order pad.

Jared looks to me for an answer. "I'm not the one with a wife at home," I shrug. Putting it in his hands gets me off the hook if Kim ends up pissed.

"We'll be back after the game," he yells. She nods and waves before disappearing around the corner. "I thought you said she hated you."

"Not anymore. Now, we're _friends._"

"Ouch." He fakes a sympathetic wince.

"She doesn't date."

"Anyone?"

"That's what she says."

"But we know she dated that Marcus guy."

"Do you want to get our nails done and talk about Bella's love life, or go to this baseball game and have a few beers?" I'm tired of analyzing every little thing she's told me. There was the first boyfriend her second year of college. Sounds like Charlie didn't allow dating in high school. Mr. Europe must not have treated her badly if she was still willing to give Marcus a shot. The path stops there. Marcus must've fucked up somehow, and now the rest of us have to suffer.

"God, you're such a grumpy bastard."

The crowd is thick outside AutoZone Park, but we don't have to wait in any lines. Budweiser, hot dogs, and nachos for dinner remind me of our old apartment and simpler times when we both had girlfriends instead of wives.

He catches a foul ball during the fifth inning, and after the game, we stick around to have it autographed by as many team members as possible. Our nephew, Alec, plays baseball, and he's a huge Red Birds fan.

Jared tosses it into the air and catches it during our walk back to Beale. "This little baby should score some points with the old lady. She hates shopping for teens, but she also hates giving gift cards."

"What did you do this time?"

"Nothing, yet. I'll hang on to it until I need it… or Christmas, whichever comes first."

It's a little past ten, and Bella is nowhere in sight when we get to Rum Boogie. Benny is at the door, tapping out a beat to the music blaring from inside.

"Is Bella done for tonight?" I ask.

"Yeah, she checked out a few minutes ago, but she's over at Silky's if you need her."

"Thanks, man."

He nods. "No problem."

Felix is covering the gate across the street, and he waves us in after we flash our licenses. Alice is working the outdoor bar, and Bella is seated on the stool closest to the wall, eating a salad, and listening to the band. More than half of the tables in the courtyard are empty despite the game and the earlier crowd.

"Time to introduce me to your _friend._" Jared slaps my shoulder and passes me, walking straight for the bar.

_Shit._

He's going to embarrass the shit out of me, no doubt. That doesn't mean I have to make it easy for him.

I catch up to him and slide onto the stool next to Bella's before he can. "Hey."

She looks up, surprised. "Well, hey. Did we win?"

"Yeah. Seven to four," I say, trying not to grit my teeth at my idiotic brother for digging his elbow into my side. "Jared, this is Bella. Bella, this is my brother Jared."

"The fireman brother, right?"

"So you've heard about me. I'm the devilishly handsome, although weird, middle kid," he says, flashing her with his signature smile.

"I almost mistook you for the modest one," Bella says, catching that silver ring with her teeth to keep from smiling.

I have to laugh at the look on my brother's face. He's a likeable jackass, and most people don't call him on it. She must be immune to his charm.

"Let me guess," Alice says, leaning forward with her hands braced on the counter in front of me. "Ghost River."

"Two."

Jasper walks outside to check on the courtyard and make sure everything out here is running smoothly. It is, so he joins us at the bar, shaking hands with Jared and taking the seat next to him.

"Good game?" he asks.

We fill him in, and Jared shows off his catch. Bella takes the ball from him to look at it.

"That's really cool that y'all waited around to get it signed for your nephew. Is he a fan?"

"Yeah. Alec loves baseball. He plays for White Station and a church team. The kid's a badass. Paul started him in little league when he was four. I'll be surprised if he doesn't get snatched up by the minors while he's in college."

"Wow." She glances over at Jasper and Jared. "Your family… You're pretty close, huh?"

"I guess." There are cookouts once a week at mom's house, when my brothers are lucky enough to be off on the same night. They send text invitations, but I skip most of the time unless it's someone's birthday or other special occasion.

Being around my brothers' kids is too much sometimes. The little ones cry and babble. The older ones want to throw footballs or play soccer in the yard. The teens complain and stay buried in their phones. My apartment is too silent and still after spending time with them.

"When is your daughter coming?" she asks.

"The first week of June."

"How old is she?"

"Twelve. She'll turn thirteen in October."

"God help you." She shakes her head, pushes her bowl away, and turns in her seat to face me. "Teenage girls are complicated creatures." The wicked twist of her smile tells me she's speaking from experience.

"I've heard some real horror stories from guys at the station."

"I bet you have."

Alice brings me another beer, and Jared orders a Coke for his second round since he'll be driving home soon. Jasper invites all of us to stop by his team's tent next weekend during the barbeque festival. Our conversation halts when a curvy blonde in a sundress taps Jared on the shoulder and interrupts.

"It's too early in the night to be switching to soda. Why don't you let me buy you a beer?"

"Thanks, but I can't," he says, holding up his left hand and twisting his wedding band back and forth. "It's stuck." Her lips turn up at the corner, and she angles toward me. "You don't want him, either," he continues. "Trust me. He's moodier than my wife."

Bella laughs, causing the rest of us to do the same. Blondie rolls her eyes and walks away with a hand on her hip.

"He's right, you know." Bella nods in Jared's direction. "Tonight is the first time I've ever seen you laugh."

_That can't be right. Can it?_ "I laugh…"

"No, Edward, you don't. But you should. You have a very nice laugh." She looks away quickly, checking her phone. "Shit. It's almost eleven, and I've got to be at the clinic tomorrow morning at 7:30."

"I'll walk you to your tru-"

"I said get your hands off my fucking girlfriend. Now." Every head in the place turns to the center of the courtyard where two college kids are bowed up, tensed, and ready to go.

Felix catches my attention and nods, stepping away from his spot at the gate.

"Stay here," I say, putting a hand on Bella's knee for emphasis. I keep my eyes on the one closest to me, easing past Jasper and across the deck.

"She's not your fucking girlfriend, asshole," the one closest to Felix replies.

The girl in question is on the other side of her arguing beaus. I try to keep an eye on her, too, because it's not unusual for women to defend their men when alcohol is involved. This could get messy.

"What's the problem, guys?" Felix asks as he approaches. Before he can get between them, a shoving match ensues.

_Fuck. _

The girl starts crying when we pull them apart and pin their arms behind their heads.

"Who are you leaving with, sweetheart?" I ask. "Think fast, because I'm calling MPD if you're still here in two minutes."

She looks between them and steps over to Felix. He releases her boyfriend, and when she steps into his arms, all the tension leaves the man in front of me. "Fuck that," he says. "I'll leave. Just let me go, man."

"That's sounds like a good idea." I let him go, and he gives the girl one long look before walking away.

Felix escorts him to the gate, and I make my way back over to the bar. Bella is standing next to her stool with her bag already slung over her shoulder.

"Let me walk you to your truck."

She looks up at me and then glances at the couple talking quietly across the courtyard from us. "How did you learn to move so fast? I blinked, and you had him locked down."

"Two older brothers. I learned self-defense the old-fashioned way."

"And I'm a TACT lieutenant's daughter. I know a few moves of my own. Stay and have fun with your brother." She touches my arm. "I'll be fine."

"I've got to be at the station at eight. Jared has to get his kids off to school in the morning. This will give him a chance to finish his soda, and when I get back, it will be time for us to call it a night, anyway."

"You're not going to let this go are you?"

I shake my head.

"Lead the way," she says, waving her hand toward the gate. She waits until we're out on Beale to continue. "It's very… chauvinistic of you to assume I need an escort to my truck."

"Hmmm. My mother called it manners when she was raising us."

She smiles. "Three sons. She's a brave woman."

"We didn't give her much trouble, and she got a lot of cute grandkids out of the deal."

"I'm glad you had fun tonight," she says. "You should hang out with your brother more often."

The game was cool, and I _did_ have fun – at Silky's talking with her. "You seem to think I never have fun."

We stop to wait on a passing taxi at Main and then cross to get to her lot. "Do you?" she asks, stopping at her truck. "Tonight was also the first time I've ever seen you smile. Well, a real smile. I'm not going to count the smirk thing you did with the lap girl the night I met you."

"She was not in my lap."

"Close enough."

"Are you going to make it to Jasper's tent at the barbeque festival next weekend?" It would be nice to spend more time with her without Beale between us.

"Angela might be able to cover for me one night. She's going to let me know sometime this week. Will you be there?"

"I'm working Thursday, but I'll be there Friday and Saturday. It's a good time, and his team is badass."

"I'll try."

I tap my watch. "It's 11:30. You'd better go."

"I'll see you this week, I'm sure," she says, opening the door to her truck.

"Maybe." Probably not, since I'm picking up as many shifts as I can at the station until Mack gets here, but I won't rule out a beer at Silky's on my one night off if it means I get to see Bella.

She waves and gets into the Explorer, and I wait to make sure it starts. Then I make my way back down my side of Beale to get back to my brother.

"She's hot for you," he says when I take my seat next to him back at Silky's.

"Shut up."

Alice has her back turned to us, but she's close enough to hear.

"Man, I'm telling you… I thought she was going to squirm right out of her seat when you full nelsoned that guy. She's got it bad. All that flirting?"

"Let's go." I drop two twenties on the counter and pull him away from the bar by the arm.

"See ya, Edward!" Alice waves, giving me a big, toothy smile to let me know she caught every word.

"What is your deal?" he asks.

"That bartender is her friend, moron." He looks back at Alice long enough to wave goodbye before we exit through the gate.

"Then she probably knows exactly what I'm talking about."

We walk to his car in silence. Jared is full of shit – he always has been – but he's right about one thing.

_Something_ was different tonight.

* * *

**A/N – Happy New Year, guys! It's too cold here for this Southern girl to think clearly, and I'm high on cold meds, anyway, so I'll just say see you soon. Stay warm and well wherever you are.  
**

**MSC**

**xoxo**


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